Luke J. Holt

Veteran Poet - 1,696 Points (1-14-91 / fullerton CA)

Like Zeus (Preamble Of The Eschaton - Poem by Luke J. Holt

Notes on the turning away
Grey horse strident nether
Cold cropped grass nearly white

Skies burst like clowns
That sop and melt in rain
In cloves and chains
Not felt since months were petals
with fur and vital pelts to stand
Rushing wraiths make runs like rivers
To brambled towers like night's sleepless admirals
Cloaked in throw blankets in pursuit

Sell them shit
from glimmering holes in the world
Climb in to beyond shape
Stuck in a box in a box on a ball in a space we won't see
God is causal
for tangible hope was quickly found unreal
I have no words for partisanists
entertaining the monster
Giving it blood and the fuel of marionette minds in various hate maelstroms
Attached by sinew to lies and violent governments

Leaves blow in hurried little parades
Like death campers marching in snow
Flanked by agitated shepherd dogs and snarling stormtroopers
Slower still
a breeze
A cricket in my bathroom dies at its altar.
Like Zeus
I'll find you in my dreams and love you in the form of a swan
And wake up fossilized in sweat and nausea
Not a god
No longer asleep
To drink like a Pan or fool
and forget the past that crouches
Regret in mammoth mouthfuls
Turning you twice away while in rare supplication
in fear of the real thing's first taste
In fear of the real feast's first bite
Supine in our soft fire
Smells soap, sheets and sun
No one tapped on the glass of this display
I keep our best moments like dry butterflies
Dead and bright in boxes
In plaques on museum walls

Every holocaust deserves a memorial museum
Even if the victim is one
I lay a wreath for myself at a waterfall in sleep
Knelt before a gnarled iron cross
Trying not to laugh

Topic(s) of this poem: apocalypse, media, metaphor, nostalgia, religion

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Poem Edited: Wednesday, November 4, 2015

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